gamble
by mahavir
Summary: The lives of seven teens are forever changed when they are thrust into a battle between two worlds. While they struggle to protect the world in which they live, and defend a world they never imagined existed, the biggest challenge may be keeping themselv


A/N: This fanfiction is set in the Digimon Universe, but involves only original characters and Digimon. If OCs are not your thing, I haveve given you fair warning, so no flames for the lack of characters from the series. Creative criticism only, all reviews much appreciated.

Warning: The story is meant for mature readers only. It contains fould language, adult situations, violenceand scenes which may be considered sexually explicit. Please use your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Digimon is copyright its respective owners. All charactersare copyright Kelsey Sanderson, 2005.

_ He looked at the blood covering his hands and choked back a sob; choked back the acrid bile that rose in his throat. Splat, splat. The blood ran up his arms in rivulets to drip incessantly from the crooks of his arms and elbows, droplets hitting the cement floor with sickeningly sharp sonance. The boy's shoulders shook as the swallowed tears broke free of their repression and spilled to the floor like the blood, leaving shockingly white trails in the ash and grime covering his pale face. Numb with pain, fear, and grief, he could only sit and weep.  
__ The body lay in a tangled heap a few feet away, on its knees and slumped forward with its face to the floor. She had been beautiful once. Her large, golden eyes stared unseeing at the boy collapsed with his back to the nearby crumbling brick wall. Pale skin peeked out between deep gashes and the blood, like crimson paint, covering her body, soaking her clothes and flooding the floor. She had been dead for hours.  
__ It moved in the darkness. Crouched low to the ground on all fours, it watched the boy across the room, the two separated only by the corpse of the woman it had already killed. Glancing casually down at its sharp claws, it sat up and began to lick at the blood-soaked fur of one of its enormous paws, cleaning away the evidence of its indiscretion. It dropped its paw back the floor, the weight of it sending a cloud of dust swirling into the air, particles from the ceiling drifting down to meet it. The creature rose and stretched languidly, arching its large, fur-covered body in a way reminiscent of a cat. It turned its cloudy grey eyes back to the child opposite itself and lowered the front of its body, preparing to pounce.  
__ It attacked. She stared. He screamed._

Urban sat up in bed, the sound of his own scream reverberating off the walls of his room and echoing back in his head. He kicked frantically at the sheet tangled around his ankles, other blankets already forgotten, thrown to the floor in the midst of a nightmare. Covered in sweat and breathing frantically, he sat there and waited for the overwhelming feeling of fear to subside. It passed and he was left instead feeling empty and nauseous.  
The noisy, constant sound of vehicles droned through the open window from the street below. Mid-afternoon light shone proudly into the room, only to be eaten away by shadows before reaching even the foot of the bed.  
Urban swung his legs off the bed, revelling in the feeling as he pressed his feet firmly against the cool, hardwood floor. Sitting there for a moment, he tried to make sense of the familiar nightmare. He had not dreamt it in years, and its reappearance worried him. Furrowing his brow, he glanced up at the alarm clock, with its LCD numbers glowing a faint orange-red from its position on the black nightstand.  
Nearly four in the afternoon. He had slept the day away again; a growing occurrence which left Urban irritable, and those around him worried and far too curious. Groaning, he stood and stretched his arms over his head, spine popping as the stiffness was worked from long quiescent joints. Ribs pulled pale skin taught and stomach muscles flexed with the motion. Urban closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the moment, but it was short lived as the door to his bedroom crashed open.  
"Geez, Urban, put some clothes on," Parker exclaimed, glaring at her boxer clad cousin.  
"Didn't I tell you to knock," Urban said dryly, more telling his younger cousin than asking. The blonde, pig-tailed girl planted her hands firmly on her hips and stuck out her tongue.  
"Mom says to hurry up because you're going to be late for work again," she said bossily, before bounding back out of the room, thumping noisily down the old wooden staircase.  
"Shit," Urban groaned, grabbing a ball of black material from the floor and shaking at it until it once again resembled a pair of pants. Yanking them on over his boxers, he did them up as his eyes scanned the room for any sign of a t-shirt. Spotting one thrown haphazardly over the top of his dresser, he clambered ungracefully over his bed and seized the black shirt, only to be stopped short as his eyes landed on the mess of pill bottles propagated across the dresser top.  
Urban took a deep breath and pulled his shirt over his head before picking up the first bottle and taking one of the green and white capsules; two tiny blue pills from the second bottle; a peachy-orange capsule from the third. He left the other bottles untouched. Looking at the pills in his palm distastefully, Urban tossed them in his mouth and tilted his head back, swallowing them dry. That done, he opened the top drawer of his dresser and swept the bottles into it with his hand, slamming the drawer shut again with a little more force than was necessary.  
"Hurry up, Urban!" his aunt Lana hollered from downstairs, voice carrying well through the thin walls of the house.  
Running a hand through his messy, chin length hair, Urban covered it with his favourite toque, black adorned with a white skull, and brushed his bangs from his eyes irritably. Hanging his large, black and red headphones from his neck, he clipped his portable CD player to the waistband of his pants.  
Urban glanced momentarily into the cracked wall mirror above his dresser, and, satisfied he had not forgotten anything, left his room quickly. He ran down the stairs and, after shoving his feet quickly into a pair of sneakers, rushed out of the house before anyone would decide to talk to or question him.  
Breaking in to an all out sprint, he cut through the local park across from his house, dodging children and people walking their dogs as he went. Reaching the opposite side of the park, he barely slowed as he ascended the stairs leading to the subway station. He slammed his RailPass through the reader on the turnstile and continued on his familiar route to the platform for his train.  
The subway train was already there, packed with people and set to leave, as Urban turned sideways and managed to slide through the doors just before they closed with a sigh. Gasping for air, he collapsed back against the nearest empty seat and put his headphones on, as the subway train left the platform. He had made it this far; it was going to be a good day. As good as they ever came anymore, anyway.

"… and over here is where…" Addison knew she should be listening. She had tried, really, but the more the young woman spoke and pointed around, the more difficult it had become for Addison to follow along. She smiled and nodded politely when it was apparent she was expected to respond, but otherwise kept her mouth shut and looked around the small diner on her own.  
"Work." Addison whispered the word under her breath, rolling the unfamiliar word around in her mouth, as though she were tasting it. 'Part-time job' had not been a word that had come up much at the dinner table either, but there she was, getting ready to work her first shift as a waitress.  
Money had never been an issue in her family, her mother being a psychologist and her father a high-profile prosecutor, but her father had been much less generous since she had thrown a house party which had gotten a little out of control. When Addison had tried to casually brush off the costs of the damages, her father had suggested she pay them back herself, and really learn the value of the money she spent so freely.  
"So, think you've got it?" Addison jumped slightly, and looked up, wide-eyed.  
"I think so Mae," she replied, sounding far more confident than she felt. Tugging at the hem of her new uniform, she wished fervently the dress was just a little longer, and wished even more so that she had actually been paying attention.  
"Just relax. It's you and I on, so you can ask me for help at any time and - oh, here comes Urban."  
Urban came banging in through the front door, grinning sheepishly at Mae as he struggled to catch his breath. "Hey," he gasped out, glancing at the wall clock. "Five minutes early." He grinned triumphantly, and Mae laughed.  
"Congratulations," she chided playfully. She gestured at Addison, "This is Addison, she's the new waitress. Addison, this is Urban, our dishwasher."  
Addison smiled sweetly, her grin large and fake - the type of smile she had always hated, but now found herself offering out more often than not. Even as she smiled at the older teen, Addison admitted to herself she wanted nothing more than to make the money she needed to repay her father and forget about these people.  
Urban looked at her silently, no trace of smile, real or fake, gracing his features. His gaze was appraising, and Addison felt as though he were assessing her genuineness. She shifted nervously and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.  
The exchange ended as soon as it began, the dark-haired boy passing them silently and disappearing through the swinging door into the kitchen. "He doesn't talk a lot," Mae told Addison reassuringly, "But he's a good guy. Alright, let's get you started."

Urban shifted impatiently from one foot to the other as he stood on the otherwise empty subway platform, waiting for the train that would take him home to his much-missed bed. It was nearly three in the morning, and he watched the tunnel to his left eagerly for any sign that his ride home was approaching.  
"Urban!" Urban jumped and pulled his headphones off of his ears, looking around quickly to see who had shouted his name. Seeing no one, he rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. He was hearing things, and that was never a good sign. "Urban," the female voice called again, frantically and as though in pain, garnering his full attention.  
Urban's eyes narrowed on the tunnel he had already been watching, convinced this time the voice had been real. Whoever it was, they were in that tunnel, and they sounded like they needed help.  
Glancing around quickly, and still seeing no one else in the station, Urban climbed down from the platform. Careful not to touch any of the live rails, he jogged into the inky darkness of the tunnel, following the voice as it called his name at random intervals.  
White light sliced the darkness and Urban's pupils restricted, leaving him momentarily blind. His arms flew up to shield his face instinctively and Urban squinted into the light, which had begun to fade to a soft glow.  
She stood before him, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "Urban," she cooed, no trace of fear or pain in her voice. "I have been waiting for you." Her voice was melodious, and rang throughout the tunnel, though she spoke softly.  
"Who are you?" Urban asked suspiciously. His legs betrayed him and Urban found himself unwillingly taking a step closer to the creature before him. Something so beautiful could not possibly be human.  
"Come closer," she insisted, "Just a little closer." Urban's feet scraped along the tunnel floor even as his mind screamed for him to stop. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he came within a foot of the woman every instinct was telling him to run from.  
Now that Urban was closer, he realized that he had been correct. Though seemingly female, she was not human at all, but only something vaguely so. A good foot taller than Urban's own five-foot-eleven, she was impossibly thin and lanky, her long, white dress flowing as a means to cover her skeletal body. Her large black eyes were almond shaped, and set a little too far apart in her narrow face, and her lips were full and flushed crimson.  
Urban exerted as much will as he could, finally managing to take a step backward, away from the thing that had quite nearly lured him to her. Finally agreeing, his mind and body began to work once more in tandem, and he turned his back on the creature to run from the tunnel. Urban could feel her arm reaching, coming close to his back, static electricity running hotly up his spine.  
"Move!" another voice ordered, this one male. A warm, furry body crashed into Urban, sending him stumbling further away from the white monster. Regaining his balance, Urban turned to find a large, black dog standing before him.  
It was the oddest dog Urban had ever seen, much too large and with gigantic silver claws, which appeared to be made of some sort of metal. It had a thick mane-like tuft of grey fur around its neck, narrowing and running down its belly in a thin stripe. Its large, pointed ears were weighed down heavily with silver studs and rings. "What the-" Urban began in confusion, only to be silenced by a tremulous bark from the dog-creature.  
"Eirmon!' it said quite clearly, earning a less than masculine squeal of disbelief from Urban. "What business do you have here, with the boy?"  
"Oh, Kanimon," the white creature wailed pleadingly. "I was only trying to have a little fun."  
"He is not a toy to be played with," the dog snarled, growling and snapping.  
"I shall play with you, then," the creature, Eirmon, teased, launching itself quickly forward towards Kanimon. They crashed together in a flurry of teeth and limbs, Urban's defender forcing its enemy to the other side of the subway rails, farther from the boy it was inexplicably defending.  
Urban stood, unmoving and entirely in shock, mind racing to comprehend the incomprehensible situation. A scream; a yelp of pain; a shout. He moved towards the battling creatures, reaching an arm out towards the dog-creature called Kanimon.  
The subway train hurtled from around a bend in the tunnel, rushing past only centimetres from Urban's outstretched arm. "Ah!" he cried, withdrawing his arm and leaning back away from the speeding subway train, the wind it caused plucking at his clothing and whipping it around him. It took only seconds to pass, but once the tunnel had cleared, Urban found that the altercation which had been occurring on the other side of the tunnel had stopped. The two creatures had, in fact, vanished entirely, the only sound in the tunnel the distant drone of the train, and Urban's own shallow breathing.


End file.
